Do Dogs Really Go To Heaven?

Yesterday we buried our dog, Pepper. At 13 years old, she'd been around most of my kids' childhood. In their minds really, we've always had Pepper. If you've ever had a dog, then you know how she really becomes one of the family. And Pepper was no different. It was very difficult to let go of her. So when Emma was saying her good-byes, she told Pepper that when she went to heaven, she'd be able to run and jump like she used to, not just shuffle and fall like in her old age. Later Emma asked me if I thought that she was telling Pepper the truth. Emma doesn't like to lie. So I wondered: Do dogs really go to heaven?

On first thought, no, dogs don't go to heaven, any more than cats or squirrels or cockroaches. Humans are God's people, not animals. And if we assume our dogs follow us to heaven, then how about our hamsters. Or fish. Or even mosquitoes. Hmmm... Not likely.

In Pepper's final hours, we laughed and cried, similar in so many ways to other loved ones' deaths I have witnessed before. We petted her, comforted her, and talked to her like she could understand (which maybe she could after all.)

But heaven? I suppose that depends on how you picture heaven. Or if you believe in heaven at all. Because I'll guarantee that if you have ten people in a room discussing heaven, you'll get ten different descriptions. Personally, I don't know what to expect, assuming I even make the cut. And those of us who say they know for sure, well that's just wishful thinking. But somehow I'm not expecting anything as literal as streets of gold, that's for sure. I don't know what heaven will be, but I dont' think it will be like that.

We had our times, Pepper and us, that's for sure. The time she ate the $80, we almost killed her. And there was the time she ate the bag of chocolate chips. Trust me, you don't want to know the details of that escapade. Except that she almost died from it, and it was not pretty. Or the time she ate Sara's jeans, or Emma's German book, or... Yeah, you get the idea.

But through it all, Pepper really was our best friend. I know that sounds trite, but you dog people know exactly what I'm talking about. She was never mad at us, she never called us names, and she never ignored us. No matter what happened, she would always greet us with her tail wagging, always nuzzle us for just a little more attention, and in general remind us that, even in our lowest moments, there was at least one living being that still loved us.

But through the years, her run became a gallop, then maybe a shuffle. As her legs succumbed to old age, it became almost impossible for her to go up or down the stairs to the back yard. It got harder and harder for her to even get up off the floor. When Sara came home after being gone for months, Pepper finally got to the point where she couldn't even stand with our help. Almost like she held on to see her one last time. Maybe that's crazy, but it sure seemed like it.

One thing I do know. I want to die like Pepper did. Surrounded by all her loved ones, she waited patiently for the injection, and then she quickly just seemed to go to sleep. I could go for that kind of death.

We buried her in a very big hole in the back yard, by all the cats, the guinea pigs, and more than a few fish. Mary put a dog treat and a dollar bill in the grave, "her favorite foods." We all helped cover her up. It was very sad, but somehow death is a part of life, and it was as it should be.

When I got back from my run today, I sat on the porch to cool down, like I always do. And I instinctively took a few steps to the door to let Pepper out to join me, like she always did. Then I remembered. She was not coming out today.

But heaven? No I'm not sure. Seeing Pepper with me there really sounds like just wishful thinking. But we've been promised great things for heaven. And I know one thing that just simply can't be there, and that's sadness. Heaven and sadness are mutually exclusive. God has promised us that much I think. If heaven is even close to what's promised, then we just can't be sad there.

So at the risk of this being one of those "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" answers, I really have to rethink this one. Because if my kids go to heaven and Pepper's not there, that will make them sad. And there's no sadness in heaven. So by that logic, yes Emma, Pepper will be there in heaven too. You'll see her again, and yes, she'll be running and jumping.

Seeing my kids happy, would make me happy. And there is no sadness in heaven.

Do Jerks Know They're Jerks?

OK, that question may be obvious to you, but it isn't to me. Really. I don't know the answer to this one, but I'm guessing it's one of those questions that is best answered with "Well, that depends..."

Take me, for instance (since I'm writing this.) I think I work really hard at doing the right thing, treating people fairly, being honest, and acting with integrity. I try to help people whenever I can, and I try to forgive people and not hold grudges. In other words, I try to be a good guy. Sometimes I succeed, and sometimes I don't. Now I know there are people who say "Morgan is really a good guy." Yet I also know that there are those reading this in bewildered amazement, thinking "What a jerk (or worse) Morgan is. What an arrogant $#%*&@^."

So in my case, even if I am a jerk, no, this jerk doesn't know he's a jerk.

But I know other people. To me, it seems like their whole goal in life is "to win," to look better than the next guy. They put people down, to their face and behind their backs, whenever they get a chance. They show concern when they think it will make them look good, but disrespect for others at all other times. They usually claim to be Christians, but it's really hard to see any "Jesus-like" behavior coming from them. The only people they treat decently are their friends. You know these guys too. They're arrogant, controlling, and firmly convinced that they're always the smartest guy in the room. Do these guys know their jerks? Obviously, I don't know what's in their heads, but listen to their friends.

Because the friends, or supporters, of these guys, usually defend them. But the defense goes something like: "Yeah, I know he comes across that way, but deep down inside..." Or maybe "Yeah, but trust me, he really means well." And sometimes like this: "Well, you know, he's just being (insert name here.) He's always been that way. That's just him." As if these things somehow excuse all the bad behavior.

Personally, I think that guy knows he's a jerk, and "deep down inside" he's actually proud of it, because it makes him look tough, like a fighter. I'm just guessing, of course.

You know, I  think it comes down to what I've said many times before: we believe what we want to believe. If we have personally gained because of someone, we want to think he's a good guy, so we do. Maybe we got an A in his class, or he gave us a promotion. But if that person hurt us somehow, no matter how well deserved, we think he's a jerk. Maybe we flunked his class, or we were fired. Even if we deserved those things, we don't want to believe that, so we don't. In our minds, the guy must be a jerk.

I think it is commendable, and the right thing to do, to try to be a "good guy." But don't expect rewards from it. That may happen, but it may not as well. Do it, just because it's the right thing to do.

Tax Cuts: What I Don't Want to Believe

I’m a scientist. Well, that’s probably an exaggeration. I actually teach science; chemistry and physics. But I know I tend to look at things somewhat “scientifically.” Which means I look at data and evidence. I try not to make excuses for facts that don’t fit what I think. While I’m sure there are times that I do that, I try really hard NOT to. That would not be good science.

A good scientist will not adjust data to fit his ideas. He will adjust his ideas to fit the data.

So I’m always surprised when I hear people talk about how we need to lower taxes to spur our economy. They say that by lowering taxes, the economy will grow, and the government will then actually collect MORE revenue, due to all that income increase. Really? When I look at the evidence, I just don’t see anything that justifies that.

In the early 80’s, Reagan lowered taxes. What happened? We had a huge deficit. Really. I know conservatives hate to think that. Honestly, I hate to think that as well. But that’s what the data shows.

Next came Bush 1. Despite his infamous “Read my lips: No new taxes” pledge, he soon realized that without doing so, we were going to have huge deficits. So he raised taxes. Slightly. Deficits were still large, but less than they would have been.

In the early 90’s Clinton raised taxes again. The result? The deficit went away. We actually had a budget surplus! And the economy boomed. Incredibly.

Enter Bush 2. He lowered taxes. The result? Surplus gone, deficit huge. Really huge. Way more than anyone ever saw before. And the economy? Well, most people agree it’s the worst we’ve had since the depression of the 1930’s. 

I know we all believe what we want to believe (see this post) but really, if you’re looking at this information, how can you really say “We have to lower taxes to spur our economy?” I’ve looked hard the last couple years, and up to now at least, nobody has shown me any data at all that supports this idea. But they keep saying it anyway.

By nature, I’m a fiscal conservative. I’ve always thought the government should spend as little as possible, and they should always balance their budget. And just like everyone else, I want my taxes very low. But when I look at the evidence, the only reasonable conclusion I can draw is that in the America we know now, this model just doesn’t work like we want it to. And up till now at least, nobody has given me any significant data to refute this.

It’s pretty simple. If we want to decrease the deficit and spur the economy, it looks to me that we have to raise taxes somewhere. I really hate to say that. Maybe you can show me my facts are wrong. If so, that’s great. But by all the evidence I’ve seen, I can come to no other conclusion.

And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll probably admit it as well.